


After

by astraplain



Category: The Faculty (1998)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-05 12:05:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6703894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraplain/pseuds/astraplain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four months after the events of the movie, Casey gets a phone call</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was seven a.m. and Casey was half asleep and chewing his way through a bowl of fruit loops when the phone rang.

"Turn on the news," Zeke said and hung up. 

Casey shuffled to the family room still carrying his bowl and turned on the television. There was only one local station so he changed to that channel and froze, cereal-laden spoon halfway to his mouth. There wasn't a student at Herrington High that wouldn't recognize the crumpled remains of the car that was on screen. 

Casey set the bowl on the coffee table and leaned forward, instantly awake.

They'd moved on to the weather report when the phone rang again. Casey grabbed it on the first ring.

"We need to talk," Casey said, a cold ball of fear forming in his chest. "Pick me up in ten."

Zeke disconnected and Casey took it for agreement. He dumped his bowl in the sink and pulled on his jacket and shoes, stuffing some pop tarts and cans of soda into his backpack on the way out. Overhead he could hear his parents shuffling through their morning routine; he'd be long gone before they made it downstairs.

"You saw?" Zeke asked as soon as Casey got into the car. He sped off while Casey was still fastening his seatbelt. 

"Was it really Gabe?" Casey asked, needing confirmation.

"There were four in the car. No survivors." Zeke recited. 

"Drove into a tree." Casey shook his head as if that would help him think more clearly. "Could just be a stupid accident."

They both knew it wasn't.

"How many? Since September?" Zeke spoke like he was having to force the words out of his mouth. He glanced over at Casey and his eyes were haunted. 

"I don't know. I..." Casey trailed off, unable to deny when he and Zeke knew was true. "Too many."

Neither of them had noticed at first, not in the aftermath of Marybeth. People they'd seen die, people who'd been controlled - infested - were alive and normal again. 

Well, almost normal. Casey wasn't about to complain when they stopped slamming him into the flagpole. 

Old Mr. Hitchenson was just that - old. No one thought twice when he died in his bed just three weeks after... Mrs Markle, a year away from retirement and a heavy smoker for most of her life suffered a massive stroke. Sad, but not suspicious.

A few more elders dead and still no sense of what was to come.

The coach's death was ruled and accident. The school nurse died of an extreme allergic reaction. Still nothing to indicate there was a problem in Herrington, Ohio.

Then students started to die.

"Four months," Casey muttered, scowling out the window at the familiar scenery. Apparently Zeke was taking them to the lake.

"I called Stokes," Zeke said as he turned onto the gravel road that would lead them to the least popular parking area. It was overgrown and had supposedly been closed three years ago. Stokes and Stan were waiting for them.

"Delilah wouldn't come," Stokes said as soon as Casey and Zeke exited the car. "Stubborn bitch."

"We are talking about Delilah," Stan reminded them with a tense smile. "She thinks we're just trying to stir things up." She'd been more blunt but they didn't need to hear her exact words - they'd known Delilah since elementary school.

"What if we are?" Casey surprised them all by shouting. "Do something to prove it then. Don't just..." Casey turned away, the rest of his words came out brittle, "...wait for them to kill us."

Zeke reached for him, but pulled back at the last moment, unsure. Casey had faced the alien queen alone and managed to kill her before her parasites could take over his mind. He was the only one who really understood now close they'd all come to losing.

How could he, or anyone, have predicted what was happening now?

There had been rumors and bits of a recent autopsy released showing that the deceased's brain had been riddled with smooth-edged holes of a uniform size. Most people dismissed the rumors as absurd, but Zeke and the others knew what it really meant.

They'd misjudged. Badly. And they had very little time to find a solution before they and everyone they knew, was dead.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm beginning to question my life choices," Denny Norton confided to the corpse on the table. "Not that anyone would think moving to Herrington, Ohio was part of a strategic plan."

Denny patted the dead man's leg as he rounded the autopsy table, tidying up. The coroner had been called away in a hurry leaving Denny to tend to... he checked the toe tag... Matthew Welker.

"I mean," Denny continued in a low voice, "it's not like I was getting New York or LA. Not with my grades. But I thought this was closer to things than Nowhere, South Dakota. I just didn't expect it to be mortality central. Two months, man. Two months I've been here and every single day there's another autopsy. It's got people freaked out around here, let me tell you."

Denny shook his head as he pushed the late Mr Welker back to the freezer. They were at capacity and had had to start sending some of the dead to the next town.

"Thanks for listening, man," Denny said as took hold of the door. "Godspeed."

With Mr Welker back in place and the room tidied, Denny took the samples he'd collected back to the corner of the lab that he'd claimed as an office. He'd pulled samples from a cross-section of the autopsies performed in the last month. He added the samples he'd just collected and sat down to work.

Three hours later, Denny sat back, eyes blurry from concentrating for so long. Notes littered his desk and the samples were pushed off to the side.

"Now what?" Denny asked out loud although there was no one else in the room. "What the hell do I do now?"

When he first arrived there had been the usual hair and skin samples, but a few weeks in they had a woman who'd been shot in the head. Doc Yeardly took a brain tissue sample along with everything else. Without explanation he'd processed those samples himself and ever since then, every autopsy included brain tissue samples.

Until now, Denny hadn't understood.

He still didn't understand, but at least he knew why the Doc had wanted those samples. He may not have been the best student in college, but he knew what he he had seen on those brain tissue samples wasn't anywhere near normal. And to have seen it in all of them... What was happening in this town? 

Cleaning up, Denny stepped outside for a smoke, squinting up at the bright blue sky after being inside for so long. He was new in town, but he'd been here long enough to know the local sheriff wasn't someone he'd trust with to handle something like this. 

Those samples, every last one, resembled a slice of Swiss cheese. Some samples had more holes, some less, but there were holes in all of them. All the same size, perfectly smooth, perfectly round holes.

Denny's stomach roiled in protest and he took a long drag of his cigarette, holding the smoke in as long as he could before slowing blowing it out. It settled his stomach a little, but did nothing for his nerves.

Thing was, he barely knew anyone in this place. His boss, some co-workers and people at the hospital. His landlady, the nice but nosy old biddy, a couple of waitresses at the local dive, and that high school kid who sold Denny drugs and porn.

Leaning back against the building, Denny tried to silence his chaotic thoughts.

Dropping the cigarette, Denny ground it out as he reached for his phone. This was one of the dumbest things he'd ever done, and considering his sophomore year in college, that was saying a lot.

Shit.

He pressed dial before he could make himself any crazier and waited, his hand shaking, until he heard a voice.

"Zeke? It's Denny Norton. Can you meet me for breakfast? I need to ask you something."


End file.
